


It Only Has to Happen Once

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 19:23:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11858058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: A quick 1x2x1 post-canon Drabble





	It Only Has to Happen Once

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luvsanime02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvsanime02/gifts).



A/N: I needed to write some smut. I needed to write something for Ro, who will encourage me no matter the pairing, no matter the fic.

A/N2: Please review, kudos, comment. I cannot put into words how completely day altering it is when I see that people respond to what I write.

A/N3: Title from a song by Stars. Aren’t you going to freak out when I DON’T put that in the author’s notes?

  
Warnings: language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1x2x1

  
It Only Has to Happen Once

There were times when Duo wanted to step back, wanted to take a moment and take a breath and look at what they were doing and figure it out.

But, more often than not, it was all Duo could do to remember his own damn name. Thinking about the future - thinking about the past - thinking about anything that wasn’t the feel of Heero Yuy’s cock - was entirely beyond him.

Rough, fumbling sex during the war when it felt like every second was time they had stolen, time they owed, had morphed into something else, after the war. They went months without seeing each other, a year, once. Heero was off doing…

Duo still, after all this time, didn’t really know what Heero did, when he wasn’t doing Duo. He travelled, Duo knew that much. He saw bad shit, Duo could infer from the haunted look in Heero’s eyes and the way he clenched the sheets in his sleep. He maybe did bad shit, Duo guessed, from the way Heero would wake up and just stare at the slow, steady progress of the ceiling fan above the bed and the way he would close his eyes as he kissed Duo, as if trying to hide some part of himself.

But when they did see each other, when Duo came home from a run to the Belt or Mars and found Heero inside the apartment that he couldn’t bring himself to call home, Duo could think of a million questions to ask Heero. But not a single one mattered, not a single one dared to slip over his tongue.

Not when Heero pulled him close, not when Heero fitted their bodies together and the world shifted, aligned to that point of contact and Duo could taste the same adrenaline rush he had longed for ever since the first time he sat in the cockpit of Deathscythe.

Heero knew his body, knew where to touch, knew where not to touch, knew how to touch. Heero, after all, had been a Gundam Pilot too. Had mastered the ZERO system. Duo’s body was… easy.

No more rough fumbling. Though, sometimes, when Duo pushed for it, the sex could still be rough. If Duo dug his fingers into Heero’s hips, if he bit at the sensitive skin of Heero’s throat and growled for Heero to fuck him, they would both end up bruised and wincing and Duo would feel the lingering burn in his ass for days.

Sometimes it was… sacred, in a way that made Duo anxious, made him want to push Heero away and rebel and run because no one should touch him like that. No one should skim over his ravaged flesh and press worshipful kisses over the disasters of his past and look at him like that. But Heero wouldn’t let him run, those times. Heero would hold him in place and wouldn’t give in to Duo’s pleas to just get on with it, wouldn’t let Duo upset the slow, steady rhythm of Heero’s cock piercing his body in long strokes that, for all the power behind them, felt like a caress.

Mostly, though, it was the kind of the kind of sex where they undressed each other, too hurriedly to really enjoy but not so desperate that they ripped the clothes apart. Trouser legs would tangle. Heero would chuckle and Duo would sink to his knees with a smirk and set about freeing them with his hands while he put his mouth to work doing other things that turned Heero’s chuckle into a groan. It was the kind of sex where they laughed, where Heero coaxed moans of pleasure from Duo, where Duo made Heero beg him for more. The kind of sex that made the rest of the world fade into the background, vanish into the past or the future and nothing but Heero’s lips meant anything to Duo.

Even after, when they laid together on the narrow bed in a tangle of sweaty flesh and stained sheets, when Duo traced over the constellation tattoo on Heero’s back and Heero’s breath puffed against his chest in soft, warm currents and Heero’s arms curled around his waist, Duo couldn’t be bothered to care about anything else.

It reminded him of space, of the vast emptiness. Of the impossible probability that sentient life had formed on Earth and the rest of the universe had remained barren.

He would fit one palm to Heero’s, would wait for Heero to curl his fingers around Duo’s and he would bring their joined hands to his lips and press a kiss to the rough knuckles.

How had they found each other? How had they found this?


End file.
